


A King in Queen's Clothing

by mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)



Series: Coldatom Kink Collection [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Kinda, M/M, Smut, i just want len in makeup and hot clothes, id also like to thank my bf for encouraging my kinky nonsense, its the lead up with absolutely none of the payoff, sorry - Freeform, this is 10000 percent self indulgent nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 13:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12366534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego
Summary: It Started when Len was 19.





	A King in Queen's Clothing

It started when Len was nineteen.

He was fresh out of jail, coming off a long stint caused by Lewis throwing him under the bus to save his own ass. He was in Keystone, following a lead on wherever his sister ended up. He hadn’t seen her since he’d been arrested, and he wanted her to know he was fine.

He was walking briskly, head down and hood up to hide his face. He was barely an adult and he already had multiple felonies under his belt. He had no interest in being recognized.

The row of stores he passed weren’t high end, but they were still out of his price range. Still, the dress forms in the windows caught his eye, causing something in his chest to tighten.

He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of one of the dresses.

It was a simple slip, colored a deep Aegean blue. The top hem was edged with a gentle black lace. The bottom hem was lined with about an inch of faux leather. It wasn’t terribly long, probably barely hitting the tops of his knees.

Before he knew it, he was in the store.

As he looked at the dress, he felt each judgmental stare in the form of pinpricks over his body, hot and shameful. When a shop employee came over with a grimace and a fake smile plastered on her lips and asked if he needed any help, the words, “Just looking for my sister’s birthday,” slipped out before he could think.

The dress cost $40, which was almost all of the money he had stuffed in his pockets before he left home. The bag holding the dress felt heavier than it was, weighed down by his heart and soul. The handle was burning his hand, branding his palm.

He was staying in a hotel he couldn’t afford, right at the edge of town. He hurried to his room, the bag thumping against his leg mirroring his stilted heartbeat.

The dress was a lot shorter than he thought it’d be. The slim spaghetti straps dug into his bony shoulders, feeling like they would split the skin. The fabric was soft under his fingertips, a smooth substitute silk that cooled his heated skin. The lace was scratchy against the soft swell of his chest, the fake leather sticking to his hairy thighs. The end of the dress hit just barely below midthigh, revealing his long, soft legs. It didn’t fit him quite right, sitting too tight around his stomach and waist. It was loose at his chest since he had nothing to fill out the cups with.

A soft breath fell from his lips as he looked at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the closet door. Despite the bad fit, he still looked exceptionally good. The deep blue of the dress brought out the crystal of his eyes, the sparse sprinkling of grey in his shaved hair. It made the sharp edges of his hips, his ribs, seem much softer. The subtle outline of his cock was prominent between his thighs.

He could feel himself growing hard, could feel the heat broiling deep in his gut as he looked at his reflection. His hands wandered, sliding down the smooth fabric over his chest, reaching under the hem of the skirt, grabbing himself through the split in his boxers. He came within a few short strokes, coming harder than he ever had.

He returned the dress a day later, guilt slithering along his spine.  
\--  
He never stopped wearing dresses and skirts when he got older.

Whenever he could, after good heists, he’d buy himself a nice dress, a beautiful skirt, a gorgeous pair of custom heels, some makeup. Mick always asked him what he spent his money on, but he never said. He didn’t have to, since Mick almost always got the packages before he did.

The first time Ray saw him in clothes that weren’t traditionally masculine, they were on the Waverider, holed up in 2038 to hide from Vandal Savage and give them time to heal and regroup before going after him again.

Len had put on one of his kilts, a simple black one with a holster for his cold gun. He paired it with his usual black jeans, combat boots, and a simple black sweater. He was on his way to the kitchen when a ‘thud’ from behind him stopped him in his tracks.

He turned his head and saw Ray standing at the mouth of the hallway. His jaw was slack, his eyes widened in surprise. On the floor in front of him, underneath his empty hand, was part of the ATOM suit.

“You shouldn’t keep your mouth open like that. You might catch flies.” Len quipped, the corners of his mouth tipping up into a smirk. He turned fully, crossing his arms over his chest. Food could wait, he thought.

Ray’s mouth snapped shut and he turned bright red, his eyes falling from Len’s face to the kilt to the floor. He knelt to pick up the gauntlet, meticulously checking the metal for any dents or damage. “Sorry. Just… wasn’t expecting that.” He said, his eyes finally lifting. He looked Len in the eye, a timid smile on his lips.

“They’re comfortable.” Len said with a shrug. He turned on his heel, resuming his trek to the kitchen. Ray’s footsteps trailed behind him, the inventor mumbling something about food.

If Len happened to sway his hips a little more, that’s neither here nor there.  
\--  
It took several months, multiple near-death experiences, and meddling from the other Legends for them to get together.

By that time, Ray was more than used to Len’s wardrobe and makeup choices. He liked to watch Len get ready, would help him pull on his stockings and zip up his dresses, would hold makeup for him and hand him brushes. It became a part of their routine.

It had been a long day, to say the least. They had been dealing with the Legion all day, which meant dealing with Thawne and his speedster tricks, with Darhk and his magic, and Malcolm and his mind games and manipulation. Most of them were battered, bruised, cut, injured to high hell and back. It was mostly superficial stuff that Gideon could fix easily, but it was still an annoyance until they got to the ship. Len was sore and tired and angry. He needed to let out some steam.

He walked Ray to the infirmary, letting Gideon deal with his cuts and bruises while he was there. Ray had several broken bones and was limping heavily on what was probably a torn muscle or two, so he left Ray in Gideon’s capable hands while he prepared.

He had to argue with Gideon until she’d let the fabricator make the clothes he was asking for. She never liked making things for him, as she knew he mostly used them for weird shit. Usually, he stole his clothes whenever they were on Earth and not galivanting through time, so he only needed the fabricator for specific things.

Finally, he got the clothes he needed and headed back to the room he shared with Ray. He was able to change fairly quickly, and he did his makeup in record time. He sat on the bed, legs spread just so, and waited.

Ray came into the room a few minutes later, already talking about something or another. When he saw Len, he fell silent.

Len smirked, knowing exactly what he looked like. His top was a silky red tank top, one of the straps falling to the side. The sheer, lacy bralette he had underneath was slipping slightly, one shoulder revealed deliberately. His skirt was leather, the sides laced tight, revealing the dips of his hips and the plush flesh of his thighs. He was wearing a pair of sleek black dagger stilettos, the glittering silver heel shining in the dim light of the room.

His lips were painted a deep berry, playing off of his skin and his eyes. His eyeliner was done in a perfectly sharp cat eye, half hidden behind mascara coated eyelashes. A lascivious grin was plastered across his lips, his knees falling open to give Ray room.

“Wow.” He breathed, his hands skimming over Len’s arms. He stood between Len’s open legs, his hands coming to cup the older man’s jaw. He leant down, bringing his lips to gently brush Len’s. The sigh that came from Len was something he would deny for his life.

Ray moved to sit next to Len and patted his thighs, his fingers slotting onto Len’s hips. Len circled his arms around Ray’s neck, pressing himself as far forwards as he could. He deepened their kiss, sliding his tongue between Ray’s pliant lips. Ray responded almost immediately, moaning softly and digging his teeth into Len’s lower lip.

Ray’s hands slid around, coming to rest over the globes of Len’s ass. His fingertips slid over the leather of the skirt, stretched taut over his skin. His fingers dug in, pulling Len’s hips flush with his own. He was already hard, the line of his cock pressed against the seam of Len’s hip and leg. Len started grinding his hips, pressing his arousal into the jut of Ray’s hip.

They were both moaning, soft noises falling from their lips as their hips rocked and their fingers wandered. Len slowly unbuttoned Ray’s shirt, pushing the fabric over his shoulders. His fingertips skimmed over his sides, over the fibers of his muscles and the dips of his ribs. Ray laughed softly against Len’s lips, his hands raising gently.

He slid them under Len’s shirt, pushing the silk up as far as he could. It gathered around his neck, bunched at his shoulders. He laughed and pulled back, detaching himself from Ray’s lips. Len shucked his shirt, taking a moment to look at his effect on Ray.

The inventor was panting, his eyes lidded. His shirt was unbuttoned, shoved down around his wrists. The deep, deep magenta of Len’s lipstick was smeared across his lips, trailing down onto his chin and cheek. He was straining against his slacks, his cock jutting into Len’s hip.

This would be _fun._  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm Bimonlewis on Tumblr! Come bug me!


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